


A Sunday Kind of Love

by birdbulletarrow



Category: People Places Things (2015)
Genre: Female Relationships, Gen, Missing Scenes, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdbulletarrow/pseuds/birdbulletarrow
Summary: Reflections on loneliness, daughterhood, and other motherfuckers. Kat POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> > "Do you want to know the best part about my parents splitting up?"  
>   
> "Yes, please tell me."  
>   
> "They split up."  
>   
> "That's a beautiful story."  
>   
> "Thank you. It's my life, so."  
>   
> (PEOPLE PLACES THINGS)  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Will leaves, Kat and Diane debrief. The hobbit joke returns for an encore appearance.

That night had been awkward. At least, according to Ma.

“What kind of teenager is so concerned with her mother’s dating experience? At your age, you should be worrying about — ” Momentarily stumped, her mother had paused for several puzzled seconds, letting her hands trail in the dishwater. 

“Ma, I’m turning twenty in, like, two months.” Kat took the dishtowel off the oven handle and after dampening it under the faucet, set to wiping down the cleared kitchen table. It was adorable how clueless her brilliant mother was about Today’s Youth, despite hanging around college kids 75% of her waking life, like she’d leapt from Pawpaw’s forehead instinctively concerned with Melville’s marginalia and prudent retirement decisions. Kat grinned. _I’ll have to draw that._

“— Oh, I don’t know! Frat parties? Do they have fraternities at art school? And internships. Or something.” The exasperated splashing indicated she’d resumed soaping the dishes. “Your own life, is my point.”

Kat swiped the near-empty bottle of wine off the table, leaving the dishtowel behind, and with a little running hop, perched on the counter beside the sink. When she tipped the bottle straight up to slurp at the last few remaining drops — damn, it really was tasty — Ma, without looking up, muttered something about ‘being unladylike on purpose.’ Kat shrugged with her usual insouciance.

“I already told you, I didn’t have plans tonight.” 

“Also on purpose. It's one thing to set up a surprise blind date for me, but for God's sake, I don't need a chaperone, much less one who's my daughter. It's embarrassing.” Said without any real rancor, but the familiar whiff of maternal petulance was nevertheless detectable.

“I live here too, y’know,” Kat replied in a mild tone. Ma never argued with _that_ line. Ma would keep her at home for the next three decades at least, if she could.

“Hmph.” True to form. 

Knowing she’d won, Kat slipped off the counter and gave her mother a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. “Like you said, I sprung it on you, so I just wanted to be here to run interference in case it turned out he was garbage once allowed out of the classroom. But he was a gentleman and a surprisingly good conversationalist, right?”

A sigh. “Yes, he was.” 

“And nerdy cute, for an old dude who doodles and teaches comics to 19-year-olds with delusions of artistic grandeur.”

Ah, the faintest flush on the not!maiden's velvet cheek. “I suppose.”

“And you liked the wine he brought, and he made _Are You My Mother?_ sound like a masterpiece and you're intrigued so you can borrow my copy, and he very sweetly complimented your swordfish.” 

“He thought they were pork cutlets. Were you eavesdropping the _entire_ time?” 

“Maybe he’ll take you to New Zealand for your honeymoon and you’ll meet his charming hobbit parents!” She danced away before her mother's half-hearted sideways kick at her shin could land.

“Don’t talk about your elders like that. Besides, that would be inaccurate, because he is nearly a foot taller than me.” 

“He referred to himself as such, first.”

“You _were_ eavesdropping.” 

“Not the entire time.” Which was not a complete lie. “Wait, does that mean _you’re_ the hobbit?” Kat dodged another kick, guffawing at her own joke. “I am totally drawing that. The first hobbit of color. Oh my God. I'm gonna turn it in as one of my assignments.”

“Etta Katherine Neely. Don’t you dare.” 

“But you would be the hottest hobbit ever!”

“Thanks, honey. And I will give your ass such a whupping if you do it, so help me.”

“You’re welcome. And I'm big enough to run away from you and your spatula.” Two more kisses on the offered velvet cheekbone, and then she rested her chin very gently on the knob of Ma’s shoulder, inhaling the warm scent of lavender and Dawn. One of the best places in the world, and one of the best smells.

When she spoke again, her voice was small and low. “It turned out okay, though? You had a good time tonight, right?” 

“I did. I raised a child with more or less sound judgment.” 

“Thanks, Ma.” 

“Love you, Etta-girl.” 

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With apologies to Etta James. Is it a weird choice for a title? I hope it's not weird. I am wracked with doubt and apparently this is multi-chapter and a WIP what have I gotten myself into --


End file.
